


Holdin' On Tight, Don't Give Away the End

by tinydancer



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M, Reunion Sex, top!Mickey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 11:44:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1468264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinydancer/pseuds/tinydancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey likes the way Ian smiles into the kiss, he likes the way it feels when Ian runs his hands up and down Mickey’s sides until it rests on Mickey’s waist. Likes the muffled groans vibrating through Ian’s throat, likes the light scrapes of Ian’s fingernails against his skin and the feel of Ian hardening between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holdin' On Tight, Don't Give Away the End

**Author's Note:**

> the prompt asked for a fic where Mickey talks about Ian's tattoo, but I ended up adding top!mickey (oops?). Set somewhere during their rounds of off-screen reunion sex.

Ian’s smiles, big and breathless, and Mickey tries not to stare. It’s been so long, _so fucking lon_ g, since he’d last seen that smile. The smile that’s been gnawing the insides of his chest, clawing at Mickey’s mind while he’s asleep – on a face he’d thought he would never see again.

And now here he is, _so real,_ blissed-out and lazy post-fuck. Ian’s eyes are closed; he has one hand resting on his bare stomach and the other curled around Mickey’s wrist, fingers grazing the pale skin there, soft and soothing.

He opens his eyes and looks at Mickey. Ian smiles and Mickey wants to kiss him.

So Mickey thinks, _fuck it_ , leans up, and presses their lips together – soft at first, until it becomes more pressured, more fervent. Until the kiss fucking bruises at their lips, burns at their tongues. Mickey thinks to himself _, he’s here, he’s here, he’s right in front of you, **he’s fucking here**._

Ian opens his mouth further and tells Mickey, _damn fucking right I’m here_. Mickey sits up properly until he’s straddling Ian’s legs. He cradles Ian’s head and kisses him deeper, until he’s _sure_ Ian can hear. Hear everything he’s been wanting to say for months, fuck, maybe even _years_ if Mickey’s being honest with himself. He pushes Ian forward, kisses him again and again.  

Mickey likes the way Ian smiles into the kiss, he likes the way it feels when Ian runs his hands up and down Mickey’s sides until it rests on Mickey’s waist. Likes the muffled groans vibrating through Ian’s throat, likes the light scrapes of Ian’s fingernails against his skin and the feel of Ian hardening between them.

Mickey looks at Ian and smirks as he grinds against Ian’s dick. Ian tightens his hold on Mickey’s hips, his eyes are on fucking fire.

“ _Mickey_ ,” Ian says, in that tone that’s all hushed and hoarse and fucking _raw_ with yearning. “Mickey, are you gonna fuck me, or what?”

And Mickey’s mind goes blank.

Because it’s been _so_ long. So long since he’s been inside of Ian fucking Gallagher, damn sweet but still cocky and a little stubborn, dick size way above average – the biggest top there is.

Ian Gallagher, Ian, Ian, Ian, _his_ Ian. Mickey’s Ian, the one with the fucking smile.

Yeah, Mickey wants to fuck him.

Mickey thinks about asking Ian if he’s sure, _really_ sure that he wants to do this, but then he looks at Ian’s face again.

Ian’s looking at Mickey with so much adoration, so much fucking trust. It makes Mickey pause, makes him want to sit back for a moment, take a hold of Ian’s shoulders, ask him why he left – no, no, ask him why he _stayed_.

But instead Mickey gives Ian a half-smile. He slides down and starts sucking his cock, and plays with Ian’s balls a little before smoothing his fingers down towards his perineum – and, Jesus fuck, Ian is _so_ tight. Mickey takes his mouth off Ian and looks around for the lube. He senses movement above him, and when Mickey looks up, he sees Ian handing him the bottle with a look on his face that seems a little nervous, a little excited.

Mickey takes the lube and quickly kisses the inside of Ian’s thigh without really thinking about it. He lathers his fingers and Ian’s asshole with lube and feels Ian shiver under him.

He starts off with one finger and almost moans out loud at the tightness. Mickey knows he loves dick, he loves taking it and he loves sucking it and he loves feeling it between his fingers. But obviously, he loves it when his own dick gets attention too. And by the looks of it, Ian’s ass is gonna give it all the attention he needs.

Mickey puts in another finger and starts stretching Ian, slow and steady. He has no idea when it was that Ian had last bottomed, and Mickey wants to ask, just casually throw it out there “any of those geriatrics fuck you like this while you were gone?” but he holds his tongue. He doesn’t wanna go there, and besides he doesn’t really want to know the answer either.

Because here Ian lies beneath him, sweaty and breathing hard, making quiet noises while Mickey stretches him out, _here_ and for Mickey.

“Mickey,” Ian says from above him. He feels Ian’s hand in his hair. “Mickey, c’mon.”

And that’s all the encouragement Mickey needs. He sits up and looks at Ian, before taking Ian’s long legs and helping him put them over Mickey’s shoulders. They feel a little heavy, but Mickey holds onto the one on his left side and steadies himself to find an angle that’s just right. He looks right at Ian as he presses his dick inside and they both close their eyes at the sensation. Because holy _fuck_ it feels really fucking good feeling Ian pulse around his dick.

When Mickey opens his eyes again, he sees Ian looking at him with so much fucking intensity, that Mickey has a sudden urge to look away before it becomes too much. But Mickey _doesn’t_ look away, and he’s damn happy about that, because otherwise he would’ve missed Ian’s fucking _face_ as Mickey thrust into him. Once, twice, three times.

“Jesus, fuck.” Ian says, a little breathless.

“Too much?” Mickey manages to grunt out, but he can’t fucking _stop_.

“No, no it’s not too much. I want more, I want _you_ Mickey,” Ian says, and fuck, Mickey almost comes just hearing the way Ian says his name, how his voice cracks a little as he says it.

So Mickey gives him more. He fucks Ian like he hasn’t fucked anyone before, he slams their bodies together, he holds tightly onto Ian’s leg and jerks him off with his other hand. And _Ian_ , Ian clutches at the bed sheets, he fucking clutches at _Mickey_ and he’s mumbling things under his breath, things that sound like Mickey’s name, things like the words _want_ or _love_ or _fuck_.

Ian comes with a groan, making a mess on his stomach and Mickey’s hand. Mickey closes his eyes and thrusts a few more times, before he comes too, with white-hot pure fucking bliss flashing behind his eyes.

Mickey tiredly pulls out and practically collapses on Ian, their chests heave almost in-sync as they try to catch their breaths. And Ian bears Mickey’s weight no problem, even puts an arm around Mickey and presses them together, despite their sweat-sticked skin. 

After a while, Mickey pries out from under Ian’s hold and rolls off him, lying on his back on Ian’s left side. They’re quiet, until they both kind of jerk at a loud clanging noise happening somewhere from downstairs.

“Probably Fiona,” Ian says, shrugging. His voice is quiet and a little rough. Mickey turns to look at him again.

“You locked the door, right?” he asks.

Ian snorts, “Doubt she’ll come in here, anyway. But yeah.”

Mickey shifts around until he’s comfortable. He closes his eyes and wants to fall asleep.

“Hey,” Ian says into Mickey’s hair. “Mick, fuck, that kinda tickles.”

Mickey frowns until he looks down and realises he’s been lightly making circles on Ian’s stomach without even realising. Fuck, he can’t even keep his hands off him for _one_ minute.

Mickey doesn’t stop though; he makes a path over Ian’s bellybutton until it reaches the tattoo. Mickey stops, and taps at it.

“Was wondering when you’d mention something about it.”

“Eagle on a fuckin’ rifle, huh?” Mickey replies.

“You don’t like it?” Ian doesn’t sound hurt or anything, more like he’s curious.

If Mickey’s being honest, he’s still undecided on how he feels about it. On one hand, he thinks _yeah_ , Ian looks pretty damn hot with a tattoo and it’s cool. But on the other hand, he thinks about when Ian got it – whether it was a decision he made with his army buddies or if it was something Ian had decided to do himself, drunk and a little fucked up. Mickey wants to ask, but he doesn’t want to bring up the army because it’s fucking painful for both of them. Mickey tried asking him only once, and Ian had completely shut him off. And every other time Ian had even mentioned it, he talked about it like it happened to someone else.

It’s like opening up an old wound that’s been festering under bandages. Mickey doesn’t want to bring it up; he doesn’t think he can deal with it right this very moment.

So he shrugs, “It’s not bad. Fucking typical though.”

Ian snorts, “Yeah, like _yours_ is any less typical.”

“Ay, don’t talk shit ‘bout my knuckles.”

Ian shakes his head. “Wasn’t talking shit, was just saying that they’re typical.” He takes one of Mickey’s hands and slides his fingers over the letters. “But I really like them.”

Mickey rolls his eyes but smirks. “Yeah?”

“Yep,” Ian says, his voice sounds tired. Almost as tired as Mickey feels. He thinks they might just fall asleep again.

But then Mickey sits up a little and sighs. “Ay, I probably gotta head to work. See that Kev doesn’t fuck the place over.”

“You sure?” Ian says. He doesn’t sound upset, but there’s still something in his tone that makes Mickey look back at him – a certain quiet vulnerability that Mickey hasn’t heard in a while.

“Nah man,” Mickey smiles at Ian; it feels a little unfamiliar to smile at him like that, all soft and hesitant and completely fucking _open_. “I guess they can manage that shithole without me for a few more minutes.”

Ian smiles back and tugs at Mickey’s hand until he’s lying half on top of him. Mickey closes his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> on tumblr: http://mickoviches.tumblr.com/tagged/myfic


End file.
